


I Dream of Desperation

by emptywaterbottle



Series: Dark Secrets [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bladder Control, Blood, Bloodplay, Dark John Watson, Desperation, Desperation Play, Golden shower, M/M, Omorashi, Pee, Piss, Piss Play, Torture, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:17:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2111328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptywaterbottle/pseuds/emptywaterbottle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John dreams about bladder torture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Dream of Desperation

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dangerous Liaisons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/791528) by [Artemis (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Artemis). 



**Chapter 1**

John grinned madly as he pulled the rope around the strangers arm tighter. The rough fibers cut into her pale skin and drew blood, which dripped down her fingers. The blood pooled on her French tipped nails before falling to the cement floor. She started to whimper as she regained consciousness.

“Please don’t hurt me!” She shrieked, eyes mad with fear.

Watson just smiled with mock sweetness and said, “I’m not gonna hurt you if you do exactly what I say.”

The woman nodded fiercely and started crying, “I will do whatever you say, just please- I have a son.”

“Then I sincerely hope he gets to see his mummy again.”

With that, he walked out of the room dimly lit room and returned with a milk jug full of water. John shoved it harshly to her face and told her to drink. The water poured into her mouth and she choked, spiting the water out.

“Drink, you filthy bitch!” He screamed and slapped her face. Crying, she tried to gulp the rest down. Finally, the water was gone and she had a much distended stomach. Her kidnapper smiled sweetly and said, “Now all you have to do is sit there for six hours. If you manage not to piss yourself, then I’ll let you go.” John leaned in dangerously close and whispered, “However, if you so much as get a tiny drop of pee on your pink little knickers, I will fillet you like a fucking fish.”

Two hours later, John returned to his dingy basement to find the beautiful stranger sitting in a puddle of cold piss. Fury boiled over in the doctor, and he grabbed a scalpel from the table. The woman cried in terror and screamed apologies. John stalked over to her and ripped her light blue blouse open. Watson looked in her terrified eyes as he skillfully cut her lower abdomen open. The woman gasped in pain and horror as he reached in her body and pulled out a bloody organ. John held her bladder in front of her face and screamed how her puny bladder had cost her life as he slit her throat.

 

**Chapter 2**

John was now looking down at a strange man with dark curls and a white button up. The gorgeous face of his next victim was bleeding and it trickled down his neck, staining his shirt. This one was different. He showed no signs of fear, only calculation. John stared at the man and had a strange inclination to ask his name. “Sherlock,” the stranger said suddenly. John covered up his confusion with anger, “What the hell are you blabbing about? This is usually the part where you beg for mercy.”

Sherlock smirked and said nothing. He just sat there, watching. Sherlock didn’t even protest when John forcibly shoved the water to his face. John admired how Sherlock’s Adams apple bobbed as he gulped down the whole gallon, not spilling a drop. He was ripped from his trance when Sherlock finished his drink. “Right,” he began, “I will allow you to leave unharmed if you can hold all that water for six hours. If you spill one drop off that dick of yours, then I will slowly cut you open and watch you bleed.”

For the first time, John thought he saw a flash of fear in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced with a smug smirk. John, angered at his lack of terror, reached for his scalpel. Slowly he dragged it across Sherlock’s forehead. Immediately the blood began to seep out and pour down into his eyes. John tuned and left. This time John waited the full six hours to check on his ‘patient.’ He decided to wait, just to build Sherlock’s terror and dread. He knew that there was no chance of him making it. It would take superman to be able to hold that much liquid for so long. John arrogantly cantered into his torture room to find a completely dry Sherlock. Immediately fury welled up inside of him and he expected foul play. However, when he ripped his shirt open he saw how distended and bloated his bladder was. It poked painfully into his dark trousers. John ripped his pants down, expecting to find a wet patch on his white cotton briefs, but there was none. At first John was frustrated and infuriated, but then he became awed. _This man has held a whole gallon of water for six hours! None of my other patients have done that..._ Suddenly, John was ripped from his thoughts by Sherlock pulling him down and tying his hands to a pipe. It all happened so fast and before he had time to protest, Sherlock was standing above him, grinning. For the first time, John felt like he didn’t have control and it was terrifying, but also a bit good. Sherlock pulled his underwear down to reveal his gorgeous prick. He stroked it once and then released. Warm. Golden. Perfect. The strong stream poured over John’s clothes and face. It drenched his hair and the tendrils of liquid danced across his chest. Then everything started to fade and he heard a distant voice calling his name softly.

“John? John?”

John’s eyes blinked open and he saw Sherlock lying beside him on the bed. He shook his head in confusion, then slowly came back to reality.

“Oh, sorry Sherlock. I was uh just dreaming.”

“Hmm what about?” Sherlock propped his head against his hand.

“I- uh don’t really remember...”

Obviously Sherlock didn’t believe it. “Really? It looks like it was a good dream.” He gestured to John’s prick, which was extremely hard.

“Yeah, it uh was pretty good,” John agreed and looked away, embarrassed and disgusted at himself. Sherlock would never understand.

 


End file.
